As an outsider to this hood, I can tell you the community has absolutely nailed it. There is nothing I could do or say to improve it.

Instead, as you know, when given the space, I will put the words of others. Several of you have told me you love this poem, as do I. So I’m sure you won’t mind me posting it again..and again..and again 🐦‍⬛

Hope is the thing with feathers –
That perches in the soul –
And sings the tune without the words –
And never stops – at all –

And sweetest – in the Gale – is heard –
And sore must be the storm –
That could abash the little Bird
That kept so many warm –

I’ve heard it in the chillest land –
And on the strangest Sea –
Yet – never – in Extremity,
It asked a crumb – of me.

By Emily Dickinson ( 1830~1886)